If only I could wrap my kid with bubbles.
If only I could take all the pains.
If only I could swallow all the challenges.
If only I could gather all dangers.
If only I could stash away all the worries.
If only I could create a paradise for her.
If only I could build a castle with servants.
If only I could garner all the awards for her.
If only I could shape up her confidence.
If only I could put her on the pedestal.
If only I could guard her from gossips.
If only I could push out all sickness.
If only there's no hunger.
There's no emptiness.
There's no tear.
There's no bruise.
There's no heartache.
There's no longing.
If only I could scribble her love story.
To provide her the brightest future.
If only life is fictitious.
I would write my daughter's life,
And dictate a happy ending.
If I could just summon the world to be fair.
I wish, I really could..
But age is not counting down.
Death is inevitable.
But I can just show her how much I love her
She is the reason of my breathing.
The most worthy fight.
But I also have to let her explore,
For her to learn
To stumble and rise.
Despite my fear,
I have to let her go,
To make her stronger,
To build her compassion,
To be empathic.
So that someday,
My if only,
Will be her own..
On her own.
Stronger.
Braver.
Bolder.
I also need to fathom
If I am doing it right.
I wish I will still be here someday,
To see my daughter,
Weave her own reality.
If only..
Friday, September 28, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
PEARLS
(Delayed posting--this was supposed to be posted on the below-mentioned date)
This is a story I always have in my heart.
Apart from my family who grabbed half a portion of my heart, these people have swept my feet with their sincerity and love.
I always have self-esteem issue.
I grew up thinking I was inferior and nobody liked me. I marginalized myself oftentimes and when I went to college, I was cloaked with uncertainties. I surrounded my heart with barrier no one could penetrate not until I was introduced to a world of diversified personalities and pure hearts.
We were all sixteen years old, one was younger by short breath and some few steps advanced yet we created our bubbles together. At first, I only allowed myself to be at the margin, an awkward stage when I was battling with confusion with the friendship offered. Friendship is no stranger to me, I have a few back in high school but this was the moment I could go on naked and show up my scars. I was never judged, I was never shown superiority although the inferiority issues came from me not from these people.
I never believed that a lot of people would learn to appreciate me. I thought only my family would successfully nestled in my heart (they had no choice anyway), but lo and behold, these individuals offered me a variation of affection.
I fought with my own demons, above all the culprit was my pea-sized self-esteem.
I waltzed with differing emotions and tried to welcome strangers to a place where there was no turning back.
I laughed. I got drank. I made stupid mistakes. I was heartbroken. The first time, I realized that growing up was not that bad.
19 diversified thoughts. 19 hearts. 19 souls. HB was born.
Regardless what others would call it. Whatever criticisms would be spilled out, my nerves will always have stings and will ooze out love for these people.
Today is a gloomy and wet Saturday, July 21,2012. 15 years ago, HB was conceptualized. No contracts, no rationale, no objective, no ulterior motives. Only, we had planted a single seed that sprouted and grew up into a tree that shaded the whole of the Earth. The love is bigger than anything else.
I am the strangest outcome of that simple concept. I struggled a lot. I forgot myself. I drifted away, yet,I am still here. Circuited back to the core of friendship.
I acquisce, I am the most emotional and vocal about these feelings because I owe this group a lot. I am in debt of these people how I have graced my own world. Cried with me. Encouraged me. Knocked me out some wits when I dumbly decided on things. Applauded my success.
Thank you is not enough but for now, that's the only word I can wrestle out of my emotionally stricken day. Thanks a lot HB! And cheers to a wonderful 15 years of friendship.
This is a story I always have in my heart.
Apart from my family who grabbed half a portion of my heart, these people have swept my feet with their sincerity and love.
I always have self-esteem issue.
I grew up thinking I was inferior and nobody liked me. I marginalized myself oftentimes and when I went to college, I was cloaked with uncertainties. I surrounded my heart with barrier no one could penetrate not until I was introduced to a world of diversified personalities and pure hearts.
We were all sixteen years old, one was younger by short breath and some few steps advanced yet we created our bubbles together. At first, I only allowed myself to be at the margin, an awkward stage when I was battling with confusion with the friendship offered. Friendship is no stranger to me, I have a few back in high school but this was the moment I could go on naked and show up my scars. I was never judged, I was never shown superiority although the inferiority issues came from me not from these people.
I never believed that a lot of people would learn to appreciate me. I thought only my family would successfully nestled in my heart (they had no choice anyway), but lo and behold, these individuals offered me a variation of affection.
I fought with my own demons, above all the culprit was my pea-sized self-esteem.
I waltzed with differing emotions and tried to welcome strangers to a place where there was no turning back.
I laughed. I got drank. I made stupid mistakes. I was heartbroken. The first time, I realized that growing up was not that bad.
19 diversified thoughts. 19 hearts. 19 souls. HB was born.
Regardless what others would call it. Whatever criticisms would be spilled out, my nerves will always have stings and will ooze out love for these people.
Today is a gloomy and wet Saturday, July 21,2012. 15 years ago, HB was conceptualized. No contracts, no rationale, no objective, no ulterior motives. Only, we had planted a single seed that sprouted and grew up into a tree that shaded the whole of the Earth. The love is bigger than anything else.
I am the strangest outcome of that simple concept. I struggled a lot. I forgot myself. I drifted away, yet,I am still here. Circuited back to the core of friendship.
I acquisce, I am the most emotional and vocal about these feelings because I owe this group a lot. I am in debt of these people how I have graced my own world. Cried with me. Encouraged me. Knocked me out some wits when I dumbly decided on things. Applauded my success.
Thank you is not enough but for now, that's the only word I can wrestle out of my emotionally stricken day. Thanks a lot HB! And cheers to a wonderful 15 years of friendship.
HELICOPTERS & POLICE
Parents will always be parents, no matter what.
When I was growing up, I was a victim of politics in school. My mother told me that during my preschool, I was supposed to land on 5th place of honors students. My mother didn't wear make up and fancy clothes, not even friends with my teachers. She wore dress she was comfortable with. She didn't care about the fashion sense of other mothers who hovered in school. Simply, because all she cared was my performance in my class or was the tuition fee paid equated my knowledge acquired in school?
I ended up on the 8th spot during the graduation ceremony of my preschool. My mother was frantic but kept mum about it. Futile emotions.
On my first grade, I represented my class for Math Quiz bee and other bees but my parents didn't back me up. Lesson learned from my preschool, they did not want to be tagged as parents who patrol my school. In other words, they sent me to school to learn, to excel and that's it. I brought home the bacon and my father would usually brag about it to his friends and family. But other than that, nothing more.
Nowadays, I get pissed with some parents bragging about their kids' achievements, maliciously. Sometimes, some of them intentionally boast about their children and overshadowing your own. Time Magazine had published one article last year about Helicopter Parents. They are the kind who hover their children and eclipsing yours, too. They are push-overs, goal and output oriented and who feel so antsy with their children's school performances.
I thought this happens only here in the Philippines, with the kind of experience I am dealing with, with the two schools of my daughter. I even thought, it must be the Filipino culture of 'pee-squirting contest' but hey! This is a global epidemic.
A friend of mine in Canada presently experiences the same. And some others who I must say have the same personality as mine, who happened to be, I-know-my-kids-capability-let's- wait-after-college, but then again while at the plane of this current journey, it is too nerve whacking and angst-sucking attitude especially from strangers who open their mouth just to brag about their children and yours is just a mediocre.
I may happen to have a child in her elementary years but this occurrence enveloped most the populace. Aside from Helicopter parents, there is what you call, Police Parents. They guard the achievements of their children, push them to excel while sniping on other parents' moves. You should not surpass their children's performances or else, they will go gaga over it and find another fault to talk about you. They are insatiable. Green eyed monsters and always thirsty of recognition.
Two things why HP and PP exist. One, they have been hovered and policed while growing up, and they are trying to pass on the scythe. Or, two, they are losers who got mixed up with great genes, and find their children the best rebound materials to tell the world: I won! You suck!
These kind of people primarily exist on host. They are like parasites, feeding from unsuspecting hosts. While you smile and look at them straight in the eyes, you are one friend they need, but once you turn your back, you are the best appetizer to their gossip-hungry monsters.
There are different parenting styles and there are different kinds of people. Even identical twins are never the same, after all. Why not try to bring up a child from your home the best way you can, the way you wished your parents have brought you, that way this world will be a better place to live in. You don't want me hovering and policing you and your child, do you?
Parents will always be parents but we can always be better parents than ours, not compare to other parents of our own generation. Parenting style evolves from previous ones just like technology. And one thing, let's mind our own business, suppress insecurities and stop pointing at others' parenting mistakes, it only shows off the color of your bones and own insecurities.
Let the children enjoy their youths. We may not be fully aware, but who your children in school, how they deal with their teachers and classmates are the reflection of how you deal with them at home. Do you want another you? Or you want to give your child his own identity?
The choice is all yours.
When I was growing up, I was a victim of politics in school. My mother told me that during my preschool, I was supposed to land on 5th place of honors students. My mother didn't wear make up and fancy clothes, not even friends with my teachers. She wore dress she was comfortable with. She didn't care about the fashion sense of other mothers who hovered in school. Simply, because all she cared was my performance in my class or was the tuition fee paid equated my knowledge acquired in school?
I ended up on the 8th spot during the graduation ceremony of my preschool. My mother was frantic but kept mum about it. Futile emotions.
On my first grade, I represented my class for Math Quiz bee and other bees but my parents didn't back me up. Lesson learned from my preschool, they did not want to be tagged as parents who patrol my school. In other words, they sent me to school to learn, to excel and that's it. I brought home the bacon and my father would usually brag about it to his friends and family. But other than that, nothing more.
Nowadays, I get pissed with some parents bragging about their kids' achievements, maliciously. Sometimes, some of them intentionally boast about their children and overshadowing your own. Time Magazine had published one article last year about Helicopter Parents. They are the kind who hover their children and eclipsing yours, too. They are push-overs, goal and output oriented and who feel so antsy with their children's school performances.
I thought this happens only here in the Philippines, with the kind of experience I am dealing with, with the two schools of my daughter. I even thought, it must be the Filipino culture of 'pee-squirting contest' but hey! This is a global epidemic.
A friend of mine in Canada presently experiences the same. And some others who I must say have the same personality as mine, who happened to be, I-know-my-kids-capability-let's- wait-after-college, but then again while at the plane of this current journey, it is too nerve whacking and angst-sucking attitude especially from strangers who open their mouth just to brag about their children and yours is just a mediocre.
I may happen to have a child in her elementary years but this occurrence enveloped most the populace. Aside from Helicopter parents, there is what you call, Police Parents. They guard the achievements of their children, push them to excel while sniping on other parents' moves. You should not surpass their children's performances or else, they will go gaga over it and find another fault to talk about you. They are insatiable. Green eyed monsters and always thirsty of recognition.
Two things why HP and PP exist. One, they have been hovered and policed while growing up, and they are trying to pass on the scythe. Or, two, they are losers who got mixed up with great genes, and find their children the best rebound materials to tell the world: I won! You suck!
These kind of people primarily exist on host. They are like parasites, feeding from unsuspecting hosts. While you smile and look at them straight in the eyes, you are one friend they need, but once you turn your back, you are the best appetizer to their gossip-hungry monsters.
There are different parenting styles and there are different kinds of people. Even identical twins are never the same, after all. Why not try to bring up a child from your home the best way you can, the way you wished your parents have brought you, that way this world will be a better place to live in. You don't want me hovering and policing you and your child, do you?
Parents will always be parents but we can always be better parents than ours, not compare to other parents of our own generation. Parenting style evolves from previous ones just like technology. And one thing, let's mind our own business, suppress insecurities and stop pointing at others' parenting mistakes, it only shows off the color of your bones and own insecurities.
Let the children enjoy their youths. We may not be fully aware, but who your children in school, how they deal with their teachers and classmates are the reflection of how you deal with them at home. Do you want another you? Or you want to give your child his own identity?
The choice is all yours.
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